Not Goodbye
by Shelby Bean
Summary: Daisy is taking some time alone after the events of 3x10 "Maveth" and is a post-canon fix-it of sorts. This was a gift fic for my Skyeward Secret Santa 2015, who wanted something tragic and full of angst.


He hadn't meant to scare the child. When he caught a glimpse of his reflection a moment later, he understood why the little boy had run away crying. Ward looked dead. It was repulsive. What would she think? He pushed the thought aside for the time being. He wasn't sure how long he could hold on, and he needed to know if she was alright. He needed to tell her.

Daisy stirred in her sleep, the faint sound of the lock and the doorknob barely reaching her subconscious. Exhausted, she rolled over and forced open her heavy eyelids. The migraine she'd gotten in that damn castle still lingered. It had been almost 72 hours and she could still feel the reverberations in her skull. All the painkillers in the world weren't enough. She groaned and rubbed her forehead.

This hotel had been a perfect choice. It had nearly soundproof walls, so she didn't have to deal with the never ending sound of other people going on about their business. She had to get away from the base for a while, to give herself time to process everything. Mack wanted her to use the safehouse, and practically begged her to take a few guards, but in the end he knew it was pointless to argue. At least he knew she could defend herself if she needed to. Right now the room was almost pitch black, save the faint glow from the digital alarm clock. There were no sounds other than her own breathing.

"Skye."

In half a heartbeat she was on her feet, hands out in a defensive posture. "Who's there?" she demanded. A silhouette was barely visible against the pale wall.

"I won't hurt you. I'm just…"

"Ward? But-" she couldn't even say it, couldn't make sense of this. Carefully, she felt for the bedside lamp, her fingers searching out the switch.

"Please, leave it off."

His tone made her hesitate. "Is that you?"

A pause. "Yes. I can't stay long, I just had to see you."

She shook her head, the migraine throbbing in her temples. She couldn't think straight. "Fitz, he told me..." she tried to explain. The words just wouldn't come out.

"Fitz made it? I'm glad to hear that. Tell him... I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" She squinted at the figure in the dark. "How are you here?"

"Like I said, I don't have much time. Please, Skye."

The pain in her head was making her angry. "Don't call me that. Don't you-"

"I just came to make sure you were alright."

"Well I'm not!" She hated the way her voice sounded. Too high, almost frantic. "They told me you were dead."

He was silent for a long moment. "How? Did Fitz tell you how?"

She swallowed hard. "Coulson. You attacked him, so he-"

"Lies." He chuckled. "Never thought he'd resort to outright lies. He's smarter than that. Or used to be."

"Then what really happened?" She made her voice sound flat, disinterested, but inside she was screaming. Fitz had looked too nervous during his debriefing, too shaken up.

"Coulson shot me, twice, just for fun. But that's not what killed me. After I was flat on my back, helpless, he crushed my heart. He murdered me."

It couldn't be true. Not Coulson. She raised her chin, taunting him to cover her fear. "Well, you seem fine now."

Another long pause. "Turn on the light."

She only hesitated for an instant, then she felt around for the switch. With a loud click, the room was bathed in soft yellow light. Daisy squinted. Her aching head was not happy with the sudden brightness.

"I didn't want you to see me like this, but you have to know the truth. You can't trust Coulson."

Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, and her mouth dropped open. "Is this real? Are you- am I dreaming?" She took a wary step toward him.

Ward stood, holding his hands up to keep her back. "Don't. I'm holding it back, for now. I won't let it hurt you."

She ignored him, moving closer. "It? What are you talking about?"

"The creature. It's in here. Stay back, I can't-"

"I'm not scared of you," she scolded gently. Her eyes traveled over his camo fatigues, assessing the damage like when they were still teammates. "You're hurt," she added, instantly feeling stupid for saying it. The bloody bullet holes seemed to confirm at least half of his story. He'd been shot twice. As for the rest of his appearance, logic and science were not adding up.

"Please, Skye." He pressed his back to the wall, his lifeless eyes tracking her movements.

She didn't correct him this time. "Are you dead? How are you here?"

"I wanted to tell you, I'm sorry, and you were right."

"Shut up. What do I do? How can we fix you?"

He shook his head. "You can't. Just promise me that you'll be careful. Look out for yourself. Tell me you're alright."

"Well I'm not!" She hadn't mean to shout.

He was frozen in place, eyes wide.

"Have you seen you? And you're telling me that- that evil alien thing is inside you? And Coulson did this? I am absolutely not alright. I mean, I'm still pissed at you, but right now-"

His dull eyes lifted up to meet hers. "I never wanted you to get hurt. Just remember that. Please."

Very slowly, she nodded. "I know. I've always known that, you jerk. We can figure the rest out later, just let me help you. Okay?" With that, she very cautiously, tenderly, placed her hand on his cheek.

He shut his eyes, leaning into her touch. His skin was cold. Daisy felt tears welling up in her eyes, blurring the image of him. She blinked to clear her vision.

The room was empty.

She clenched up her hand, the coldness of him still on her fingertips. It was the only proof she had that he wasn't just a figment of her exhausted, overworked brain.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she crawled back into the bed. In the morning, she would talk to Fitz, and maybe confront Coulson. Or maybe she would run away to join the circus. Surely her superpowers could be harnessed into some kind of marketable entertainment. Who knows? After your dead ex-boyfriend drops by to check on you, it sort of feels like anything could happen.

Going back to sleep was not an option. Daisy scooted back until she could lean against the headboard and keep an eye on the now-empty room. The lamp could stay on.


End file.
